Interview
by Rarely Written
Summary: Lestrade unknowingly brings Sherlock's boyfriend in for questioning. "I'm sorry, you've got hell coming." Johnlock


Lestrade POV

I knew it was going to be a long day. Donavan had arrested someone who fled from the crime scene I had attended this morning. He was now in handcuffs getting guided to an interview room. He was smiling. Not in an 'I'm so evil but you'll never get me' way. No, his smile was more 'I'm so stupid, this is so embarrassing' way. I knew deep in my gut this man was not our killer. But he had run, so we had arrested.

I sighed, rubbing my neck as I followed them.

"Excuse me, Detective?"

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Would you mind if I make a phone call before we start?" He asked.

Donavan glared, "Already wanting a lawyer?"

The man looked a bit sheepish, "No, but it's my birthday and I had plans… I don't want him to worry."

I shrugged, I didn't see the harm. Donavan looked shocked when we arrived at the interview room I unlocked his hands and handed him my mobile. He smiled, grateful. He dialed a number quickly and held it up to his ear.

"Honey, it's me, John."

A pause. Donavan rolled her eyes and left the room. I settled into my chair and John did the same.

"No listen, I don't think I can make it to dinner. Long story short, I'm in a spot of bother with Scotland Yard…"

He was cut off here. I could hear a voice on the other end, sounding stressed.

"No, no, no, it's fine. Really. I was stupid, I ran. Old reactions have a wonderful timing."

I frowned, wondering what he was talking about. Was it possible that this man was guilty of a different crime? Had fled upon seeing the police? He didn't seem that kind of man but…

"No, listen to me… Don't call him! I'm fine, it's just an interview… No! No don't come down… Hello?"

With a sigh he hung up.

"Problem?" I asked, fighting the urge to laugh.

The man across from me now looked guilty. My guess was it had nothing to do with the crime.

"I'm sorry, you've got hell coming."

Now I did laugh. John managed a smile.

"Don't worry, I know a man who is far worse than your partner."

He muttered something along the lines of "you'd be surprised". With one more good-natured laugh I began my questions. John, though he wanted to be helpful, really had no clue how. We were near the end of our short discussion when he burst in.

"You can't go in there!" Donovan shouted.

Sherlock ignored her, as he always did. He waltzed into the room, annoyance clear on his face.

"Sherlock, you can't just burst into an investigation uninvited! We don't require your assistance," I scolded.

"Clearly you do, since you've got the wrong man."

I rolled my eyes. I knew we did. However, as Sherlock would say, Donovan decided to lower the IQ of the room.

"We'll be the judge of that."

John had been silent this whole time. I glanced at him, he looked defeated. I frowned, he was fine moments before. Was it Donovan's lack of faith? Sherlock opened his mouth to reply.

"Enough Sherlock. They have a point. And I told you not to come," John stated, but he looked as if he knew these words would come to no effect.

Sherlock crossed the room to John's side. He gave John a look that said, 'you expected anything else?" John's mouth twitched into a smile. I blinked, John had told _Sherlock _not to come? As in he was the person on the other side of the phone call? But that meant…

"When did the murder take place?" Sherlock asked.

My response was automatic, "Between 12 and 3am."

"Then we have no problem, because John was with me."

Donovan snorted. Remembering John's conversation on the phone, it was likely Sherlock was telling the truth. I nodded, but before I could ask one last question Donovan interrupted.

"You can't honestly believe him sir? What the hell could they be doing at that time?"

I really didn't want to know. But since she asked the question, there was no way I was going to be spared the knowledge.

"We were in bed. Obviously. And I can assure you John had no time to complete the murder in that time frame."

John's face was beat red. But it wasn't nearly as funny as Donovan's. Her mouth was hanging open, eye wide, cheeks red. I couldn't help but snort at the sight. I was graced with one of Sherlock's few smiles. It seemed that for now, I was out of Sherlock's anger zone. After a few moments of Donovan's disbelief I decided to finish the interview.

"I just need to know one thing before you go, and that would be why you did run this morning."

John sighed, "A car backfired. I… panicked, I guess. Old issues."

Sherlock, seeing my confused look, stated, "He only got home from Afghanistan two months ago."

A soldier. One who was wounded by the look Sherlock was giving me. Acceptable excuse. I smiled, "Thanks for that. Sorry for the trouble."

Sherlock stormed out of the room without another word. John gave me an apologetic smile before hurrying after him. As he reached the door I called out his name. Looking over his shoulder, he waited for my question.

"Happy Birthday. Hope you make it to dinner."

John's grin is now mischievous, "We never do."

Laughing as Donavan's face flushed red again, he jogged out of my line of sight. Sherlock did not wait for anyone, not even his boyfriend, it seemed. Donavan raised an eyebrow as I let out a chuckle.

"Could you believe it, all those times we worked with him, reading our personal lives like a book and we didn't even think he had one," I explained.

She looked down the corridor, presumably watching the two leaving the station, "Wonder what's wrong with him?"

I don't even bother voicing my disapproval anymore, never makes any difference. I simply rise from my seat and leave the room. I can see John in my minds' eye; kind hearted and brave. Not extraordinarily good looking, but not bad, just simply plain. An average Joe. He was completely and utterly human to his core but somehow he had melted the ice around Sherlock's heart.

_John Watson_, I think with a smile, _good luck with that one._


End file.
